Save the Last Dance (or Five Times DG & Cain shared the last dance
by DrawnToDarkness
Summary: ... and one time they didn't.) It was a tradition that started at the first ball; the last dance was always theirs. Cain/DG, Romance/Angst.
1. Chapter 1

Save the Last Dance (or Five Times DG & Cain shared the last dance and one time they didn't)

Summary: It was a tradition that started at the first ball, the last dance was always theirs. Romance/angst

A/N: This is possibly one of my favourite stories of all the ones I've written, definitely my favourite in the Tin Man fandom so far!

* * *

The First Dance

* * *

It was a tradition that started at the first ball, the one the Queen and her council arranged six cycles after the double eclipse. Neither of them had been enthusiastic about the prospect of attending; DG hated the thought of being the centre of so much attention and Cain was adamant the whole thing would be a security nightmare.

They both grumbled about it, to each other and to anyone else who would listen, in the weeks and days leading up to the grand event. By the time the ball itself rolled around, Azkadellia, who'd been dreading it herself, was thrilled to have it finally be here just so she would stop hearing her little sister go on about it.

All in all, it wasn't as bad as DG had been anticipating. It helped that Cain had been roped in as her escort at the last minute, a decision her mother made when she realised just how unsteady her daughter was in the high heels she was expected to wear. It just wouldn't do for the newly returned princess of the OZ to trip over her own feet as she descended the staircase for her debut.

Though DG had hoped Cain's role would mean she'd be assured of his company for the evening, she was disappointed when the small group of friends she'd made in the OZ were pulled in different directions. Cain spent most of the evening with Jeb and other members of the Resistance he'd known before his incarceration in the Tin Suit so she couldn't be too upset about it.

Glitch was kept busy in his role as advisor to the Queen, having become Ambrose once more following the successful operation to restore his brain. He was still Glitch, most of the time, but had a definite job to do at the ball that didn't include keeping DG company.

Raw had attended only long enough to be granted the honours the Queen had bestowed on the three men who'd helped her youngest daughter defeat the Witch and free Az from her possession. It was too much, the Viewer told DG apologetically, to be around so many people and feel so many things.

Being separated from the men who'd been her companions during her first days back in the OZ initially left her wandering on her own, fending off questions she didn't know the answers to from the seemingly hundreds of people who wanted to speak to her. But then DG caught a glimpse of her sister through the crowd around her, sitting alone and looking lost on a bench outside on the balcony and she'd fought her way through the sea of unfamiliar faces, stepping on more than one toe in the process, until she'd made it to Az.

Side by side, they'd sat together holding hands, listening to the music that drifted outside as they enjoyed the warm night air.

Later, DG would find out her Mother had spotted them together. Instead of ordering her daughters back inside to mingle with their guests, Lavender had made a subtle request that her daughters not be disturbed to Wyatt and Jeb Cain, both of whom had gravitated towards the open doors when they'd spotted the Princesses outside.

It was only when it was indicated that the band were about to play the last song that the Princesses were interrupted; it wouldn't do, Glitch announced, for them to miss dancing all together at their first official ball.

"Damn, and I thought I'd got away without making a fool of myself," DG complained to Az as they made their way inside, her arm linked with her sisters.

"Language, Princess," Cain warned her, though the warning glower on his face was enough to keep most eavesdroppers away.

Not that there were many people left, DG realised; the crowd had thinned out considerably since she'd joined Az outside and she couldn't help but be glad for it.

"Maybe we don't have to dance at all," Az murmured, clutching DG tighter as the eyes of those who were still there immediately turned to take them in. "Do you think we could just excuse ourselves for the night?"

The unease in her voice and clearly nervous expression should have been enough to persuade even the hardest of sceptics that Azkadellia and the Sorceress were not the same person; it was certainly enough to persuade Jeb, who offered his hand to the elder Gale daughter when it looked like she was about to flee.

"Just one dance, Princess," Jeb assured her, giving her a lopsided smile when she stared at him in surprise. "I promise I won't bite."

Az blinked her dark eyes at him. "You don't have to dance with me, Captain Cain."

"But I'd be honoured to, if you would accept."

She took his hand in somewhat of a daze, missing her sister's delighted smile. There was a murmuring throughout the ballroom as the former Leader of the Resistance escorted the former Sorceress to the middle of the room for the final dance of the evening.

"What do you say, Princess?" Cain cleared his throat and arched an eyebrow when DG glanced at him. "I promise I won't let you fall over your own feet."

A small snort of laughter escaped her but DG took the hand he offered. "As long as you don't shoot me if I step on your toes, Tin Man."

Once both Princesses were on the dance floor, the band started to play.

**  
The Second Dance  
**

If there was one thing DG learned about the former Resistance fighters, it was that they knew how to throw a party.

Most had joined the Royal Army under the command of their young captain, Jeb, which meant most of them had become familiar faces to her as they were the official escort of herself and Azkadellia after they began their tour of the realm to heal the war damaged lands with their light.

It was on returning from the first leg of the tour that DG found herself at an impromptu party thrown by the men and women under Jeb's command to celebrate the birth of Gerard, Jeb's second in command's, first baby.

The makeshift camp on the outskirts of the city became a festival of sorts once word had reached them that Gerard was a father. There wasn't a great deal of alcohol but what there was flowed freely as the group converged around a fire and celebrated the news.

"What can I say," Jeb said with a grin and a shrug when she asked him if it was normal practice. "They've not had much to celebrate for annuals; whenever something good happens, they want to have a good time to mark the occasion." He must've caught the guilty expression that stole across Az's face as he swung his arm around the older Princess's shoulders and hugged her for a moment. "Don't look so down, Az. You've got as much reason to celebrate as the rest of us."

Az gave him a small smile of thanks, a pretty blush colouring her cheeks as she ducked her head.

"Come and dance with me, Princess," Jeb continued, getting to his feet and tugging Az up with him. "I think you'll like this one."

The band, a group of soldiers playing instruments that seemed to have materialised from nowhere, were playing a happy tune that another group of soldiers were doing some sort of folk dance DG didn't recognise to. Her sister's protests were lost of the music as Jeb dragged her towards the group, insistent that she should take part.

The younger Cain was good for her sister, DG mused, smiling as the former Resistance fighters easily accepted Az as one of their own due to their Captain's faith in her. He was breaking down the walls slowly, reaching the parts of Azkadellia that not even DG could heal and she was beyond grateful to him for it. She didn't know what the future had in store but there was no way she could miss the growing closeness between the two of them, something that settled her heart as much as it made it ache.

"You still with us, Kid?" Cain nudged her lightly as he sat down on the log-turned-seat beside her. The flames from the fire they sat beside caused shadows to dance over his features but the hat he wore kept his eyes in shadow.

"Where else would I be, Mr Cain?" She smirked back at him, knowing he disliked her calling him Mr Cain as much as she disliked him calling her kid.

"Looked miles away to me," he said, and she caught a hint of concern in his voice. "You've been troubled since we left the Eastern Guild. Something on your mind, DG?"

There was a lot on her mind, but nothing she felt able to share. She folded her arms in her lap and turned her gaze back to the fire instead of answering straight away. "I was just thinking about Az. She's come along way but she's still got some ways to go."

"Could say we all do, Deege." But he followed her gaze to where Azkadellia was laughing as she danced with his grinning son and a small smile tugged at his lips. "I'd say they're going to be just fine, though, Princess. You don't have to worry about her all the time."

"I think I'm always going to worry about her," she admitted quietly, unable to fight the twinge of guilt she felt every time she looked at Az and remembered the brave and protective big sister she'd once been. It was her fault that Az was gone, her fault her sister had become a fragment of the woman she could – should – have been.

"Well, I think you need to be takin' a night off from that." He got to his feet and for a moment, she thought he was leaving her. Then he held one hand out to her, tipping up his hat with the other so he could see her clearly. "It's not much of a party if you don't dance, Princess. It'd be mighty insultin' to the hosts if you sat watchin' all night."

She took his hand even as she protested. "I don't know the steps, Cain. My dancing skills are limited to a waltz. A very, very slow one."

"I'll let you into a secret, DG," he told her, swinging her round to face him as they reached the other dancers. "With this kind of dance, there are no steps. You just copy everyone else and hope for the best."

Deciding that was easy enough to do, DG let herself get swept away by the music and the laughter, by Azkadellia's over bright eyes and Cain's hand on her waist.

It was one night off, she reasoned with herself, trying to salve her conscious. One night, once dance.

What could it hurt?

**  
The Third Dance  
**

It hurt. A lot.

But she tried to hide it with a smile and accepted the well wishes of those in attendance at the party.

Her party, though it was one she hadn't wanted.

Her Mother had insisted; it was her first birthday following her return to the OZ and they'd missed out on celebrating so many of those while she'd been on the Other Side.

DG hadn't thought it right to point out that while _they_ hadn't celebrated her past birthdays, s_he_ had. With the people – robots – she'd thought of as parents helping her mark the occasion each and every year. _Annual. _Hank and Emily were not at the party, though, because Hank and Emily no longer saw her as their daughter and the smile DG forced was just bright enough to match the shimmer in her eyes as she tried not to think about that.

It hurt not to have them there with her, but that pain was nothing compared to the realisation that there would be no dancing at this party.

Not for her.

Not with Cain.

Jeb had apologised profusely on his father's behalf; Cain had fully intended on being there but when they'd had word that a group of Longcoats they'd been tracking had been spotted at a town not far from Central City, his father had been the nearest General around to go after them. The journey had taken him and his men longer than they'd anticipated, as had finally getting the Witch's men under control.

"He's fine, Princess," Jeb assured her, "a little roughed up maybe but he sent word that it's not something to worry about."

DG knew, because he'd sent word to her, too. The message had arrived by courier bird just as the first guests had started to arrive.

"I know." If she tried to any harder to force her smile, she feared her face might get stuck that way; her cheeks were already beginning to ache as it was and the night was still young. "I'd say thank you for coming, Jeb, but I know you didn't really get a choice. You really drew the short straw getting Princess protection duty tonight, didn't you?"

He shook his head and laughed; it was a nice laugh but not a patch on the rare chuckle DG occasionally managed to elicit from his father, usually when she didn't intend on it. "Believe it or not, I volunteered for the role. Someone's got to keep an eye on you two."

As his eyes strayed to where Azkadellia stood with their parents, DG found herself hiding a genuine smirk, suspecting there was only one Princess Jeb had volunteered to keep watch over and it was not the one celebrating her birthday.

Or pretending to celebrate.

She played the part of princess well for the evening, so well she almost impressed herself. She circulated the room and engaged in small talk about things of little to no interest and managed to keep the pretence of smiling, happy DG up until the partygoers began to dwindle.

But it still hurt; she still missed her friends.

Glitch wasn't there because he was off on a diplomatic mission at bequest of her mother; she'd later find out the reason Lavender had asked Glitch to go was that the dignitary he was meeting with, Lord Reginald, was a former flame of Lord Ambrose. Whether the couple would reunite remained to be seen but DG shared her mother's hope that maybe someday they would. Glitch deserved to be happy, just as he deserved a life outside of his devotion to the Royal Family.

Raw had visited her a few weeks earlier but had returned to his tribe rather than stay for the official celebration. DG understood his reasoning and didn't ask him to stay. She instead enjoyed the all too brief reunion with three of her favourite people and counted it was the best early birthday present she could have received.

The party was dwindling when she finally had enough and started to search the crowd for her parents so she could ask their permission to say her goodnights. Since skirting the edges of the dance floor left her open to a prospective suitor requesting she dance, DG decided to cut straight through the middle and head to where she'd seen the Queen and Consort last.

Focused on her goal, she didn't see the man who entered the room, more than a little weary and a bit too dusty to be acceptable at the birthday party of the Princess.

He didn't care about the looks he got; DG didn't notice them at all as she bumped into him and lifted her head to apologise only for the word to die on her lips and another take its place.

"Cain!"

He tilted his head, acknowledging her surprise with a small smirk. "Princess. Didn't think I'd miss your birthday, did you?"

"You said as much in your letter," she reminded him, unable to stop the smile that broke out across her face. It faded a little as she remembered the reason for his absence. "Are you hurt? Should you be here?"

Before she could step back to give him a thorough once over, Cain caught one of her hands with his and put his other hand on her waist, drawing her in. "I'm fine, DG. And just in time for the last dance, if I'm not mistaken."

She ducked her head to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks but moved with him willingly, falling effortlessly into the steps that were now familiar to them both.

Once the dance was finished, DG let Cain lead her off the dance floor and towards her parents, knowing that to stay was to risk someone else asking her to dance. She'd danced her last of the evening and they were both aware of that, though neither dared question what it meant that it was always with him.

"Thank you for the party," DG said to her parents, embracing them both in turn.

"I do hope you enjoyed yourself, my angel," Lavender murmured, lingering close to press a kiss to her youngest daughter's forehead.

DG stole a glance at Cain, who was speaking with her father in a low voice about the attack that had almost prevented his ability to attend, and then back at her mother. She chose not to notice the knowing glint in her mother's light eyes.

"I enjoyed it much more than I thought I would," she admitted softly, both to her mother and to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

**  
The Fourth Dance  
**

The announcement was completely out of the blue.

DG did her best to smile through the surprise that struck her as her mother called for the band to stop playing so she could make an announcement.

It was the second anniversary of the Eclipse, two annuals passed since the Witch had been separated from her sister and eternal darkness had been averted over the whole of the OZ.

Two annuals, DG mused, standing in her rightful place beside her sister as their mother addressed the crowd and spoke of the healing that had undergone the kingdom over that time. The Guilds had been re-established, tribes and races thought long-lost remerging to swear allegiance to the House of Gale following the completion of the tour DG and Az had undertaken of the country, draining themselves of their light often in order to bring light to the darkness the Sorceress had spread.

They'd never asked anyone for forgiveness, but it appeared the people were more than willing to give it. It warmed DG's heart and lessened the guilt she still carried even if only a little.

But the people were still a little wary of Az, she knew. Oh, the unfailing support and loyalty of the former Resistance Fighters went a long way – Jeb had seen to that, given his closeness to both Princesses, though notably the elder of the two. But there were still some who looked at Azkadellia and couldn't see past the Witch who had worn her face.

Az had grown remarkably over two annuals but still had her doubts and insecurities. She was strong, but there was still nights DG would slip into her room, hearing her sister's sobs, and hold her close as she wept for the annuals she'd lost and the atrocities committed by her hands.

Still, the announcement came as a shock.

"I hereby announce, following Princess Azkadellia's decision to abdicate her rightful claim to the throne, that my daughter Princess Dorothy Gale will succeed me as Queen."

The crowd burst into applause and cheers but DG didn't hear it past the roaring of blood in her ears. She felt Az take her hand, was distantly aware of her sister speaking.

"I'm sorry, Deege. I just can't do it. Thank you for agreeing."

Her sister thought she'd been told; her sister thought she'd accepted the role.

She hadn't.

She hadn't known it was hers to accept.

How she survived the following minutes, DG wasn't sure. She vaguely remembered catching a glimpse of concern on Raw's face – he'd made an effort to attend, being one of the heroes of the Eclipse and the recently appointed Leader of his tribe – and the pride on Glitch, no Ambrose's, face as he applauded alongside his newly reunited lover.

Her breath caught in her chest, the laces on her corset suddenly feeling more restrictive than they had earlier in the evening. The edges of her vision were starting to go dark as she tried to breathe, tried to remember how.

An arm went around her waist, and she was vaguely aware of moving, and then there was cold air against her too heated skin and a familiar voice rumbling in her ear to just 'breathe, Deege'.

"Laces," she managed to gasp. "Too tight."

Strong, sturdy fingers got to work in an instant. It was entirely improper, she would realise later, for the General of the Royal Army to be seen unfastening the bodice of the newly appointed Heir Apparent, but DG couldn't bring herself to care then, nor would she later.

Besides, he didn't untie them entirely, just loosened them enough so she could fill her lungs without the sensation of being her chest being crushed, and then stood beside her, rubbing her back soothingly as he murmured assurances into her ear.

"It's okay, DG. You're okay. Just breathe for me, darlin'. That's it." He was so close but somehow she didn't feel crowded. She felt the warmth of his body keeping the chill of the night air at bay, the heat of his palm against her back through her dress. "That's it, sweetheart."

"I..." She broke off, her voice a mere whisper. She licked her dry lips and tried again. "I don't want to be Queen, Cain. I can't."

He didn't tell her she was wrong. He didn't tell her she could choose not to be. As her gasps for breath slowed and the tears she hadn't realised were streaming down her cheeks stopped, Cain drew her against him, settling her against her chest and held her there until her breathing evened out.

She could feel his heart beating through his shirt, smell the scent she associated as being uniquely _Wyatt Cain, Tin Man, best friend and definition of safety_ all around her.

The music must have restarted indoors at some point, but DG couldn't say when.

Cain took a small step back from her, just enough to position them so one arm was around her waist, the other clutching her hand in his against his chest above his heart.

It was more of a shuffle than a dance, a gentle sway under the moonlight in time with the music on the breeze.

Inside the ballroom, four members of the former Resistance stood guarding the doors so that the Princess and General would not be disturbed.

**  
The Fifth Dance  
**

A lot could change in an annual, or just under.

Crown Princess and Heir Apparent DG stood and watched her sister take to the floor, Azkadellia's dark eyes seeing nothing but the young man who led her there.

Her fiancé, her salvation.

The besotted look was returned as Jeb beamed at his bride to be, the hardened edges of the former Resistance Leader softened as he gazed lovingly at the Princess who had once been his enemy and would soon be his wife.

As happy as she was for them, DG couldn't help but envy them.

To be able to marry for love was something she had long since taken for granted, until the moment she realised it most likely wasn't to be.

As the direction of her thoughts shifted, so too did her gaze.

Wyatt Cain was amongst the dancers who joined his son and Az on the dance floor, a smile on his face as he held his partner in his arms.

There was no glint of a wedding ring on his finger, no flash to remind his partner – or DG – of the woman he'd loved and lost.

The lady he danced with was the widow of a man who had served with Cain in the Tin Man, a man who had died at the hands of the same Longcoats who had taken Cain's beloved Adora from him.

It was just one of the many things they had in common.

Though he'd not come out and told her he was courting the woman, DG suspected it in her heart. Why else had he stopped wearing his ring? Why else was he out there with her, instead of standing beside his future queen?

DG watched from the side lines, suddenly keenly aware that this was her place going forward.

She was no longer one of them, free to join in with the dancing and the joking and the conversations that flowed easily between the former fighters who had become the loyal Royal Guard.

Gone were the days where she could smile and tease and coax a laugh that would be quickly smothered by a cough out of one of the guards.

Az smiled more freely now; she laughed often.

DG did not.

It wasn't towards the end of the night, more like the middle, when Wyatt Cain eventually approached her.

He did so carefully, with smooth steps and a low bow that made her stomach twist and her heart ache.

"May I have this dance, Your Highness?"

No Princess or DG, certainly no Kid or darling or sweetheart.

She knew she could refuse and no one would bat an eyelid; she was the future ruler of the OZ after all. But because she wanted to, because the old DG that still fought somewhere within her screamed at her to, she accepted his hand with a graceful inclination of her head and allowed him to lead her out into the middle of attendees celebrating the recently announced engagement of Azkadellia Gale to Jeb Cain.

"It's been a while, Princess," Cain murmured, careful to keep the required distance between them as they danced.

She fought the urge to ask whose fault that was and instead fixed a demure smile on her face. "I've been a little busy learning the ropes from Mother."

He made a sound at the back of his throat she couldn't identify so made no attempt to. "You're allowed to take a day off once in a while, DG. No one's expecting you to be Queen overnight."

At that, she did snort. An unladylike sound her Mother's advisors would have chided her for but they weren't within earshot and she was beyond caring if they were. "Please feel free to tell that to everyone who expects me to magically know everything there is about the OZ and being Queen despite the fifteen annuals I spent living on the Other Side. Not a day goes by when I don't mess something up, Cain."

She glanced up in time to see his eyes narrow, his expression less than friendly. "You've never messed up, DG."

The cave came back to her then. The sound of a child in distress, crying for help. The old hag who implored her to let go.

DG shuddered and closed her eyes; they continued to dance in perfect time with the music around them.

Silence filled the space of conversation between them. Where once it would have been comfortable, an unspoken tension lingered in the air but neither could pinpoint exactly what it meant.

The song eventually ended, and so too did their dance.

DG's fingers brushed the space on Cain's hand where his wedding ring had once sat.

"Be happy, Wyatt," she whispered, breaking protocol to stand on her toes and brush her lips against his cheek, dangerously close to his lips. "You truly deserve it."

And then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd, surrounded by people who didn't really know her and didn't really want to.

Cain tried to figure out why his arms felt empty, and why what he'd intended as their first dance of the evening felt like the very last they'd share.


	3. Chapter 3

**  
The Sixth Dance  
**

The official celebration of Az and Jeb's engagement was followed by an unofficial celebration in the barracks of the palace. The former Resistance Fighters turned Royal Army were famously renowned for their ability to throw a party and the engagement of their leader-turned-Captain to the Sorceress-turned-innocent-Princess was as good a reason as ever.

DG was invited and only attended because Az insisted.

It was a strange turn around in events; even as much as an annual ago, DG would have been the one dragging Az along, insisting her sister would be welcome amongst them. Now it was Az who begged and pleaded for her little sister to join her outside of the palace walls, to dance and drink and laugh and smile amongst the soldiers who swore allegiance to their family.

Wyatt watched her from the corner of his eye, aware his role was to play proud father but unable to break the habit of what felt like a lifetime when it came to DG. She looked pale and tired; she'd lost weight and there were shadows under her eyes he really didn't like seeing.

She stood on the outskirts of the chatting groups instead of in the middle as he was used to seeing, looking every bit the outsider instead of the person he knew was in truth responsible for bringing them all together.

He felt someone jostle into him and turned his head away from DG for a moment. Margaret gave him an apologetic smile, her eyes overly bright. She was a good woman, a kind woman. She'd been dealt a bad hand by the fates when her husband had been killed and deserved a good life, a good future.

She was the kind of woman that, had he lost Adora under other circumstances and not met DG, he could have seen himself settle down with. She reminded him a lot of his late wife, but then maybe that was why he knew that there wasn't even the smallest of chances for the two of them despite hopes others might harbour to the contrary.

Others who did not include his son, or his soon-to-be daughter-in-law, both of whom had made their feelings perfectly clear to him of late, giving him their blessings when he'd been unaware he'd needed them.

As Margaret was swept away by the dance in the arms of someone else, and as Wyatt pretended he didn't see the disappointment in her eyes, his gaze shifted back to where he'd last seen DG.

The space against the wall in the corner of the room was empty.

He tried to tell himself the pang in his chest had nothing to do with the dance he was planning to collect from her, their long-standing tradition to share the last dance of the evening. He tried to tell himself the disappointment didn't come from the place inside himself, his heart, where he'd promised that tonight would be the night he finally told her how he felt.

He'd thought their last dance tonight would be the first of many, the first of the rest they'd share for the remainder of their lives.

He'd thought wrong.

Az and Jeb joined him as he moved to the space DG had formerly occupied. The eldest Princess looked distraught as his son did his best to comfort her.

"I'm losing her, Jeb," Az told him mournfully, her dark eyes damp with tears that were perilously close to being shed on what should have been the happiest night of her life. "I'm losing my baby sister and I don't know how to stop it."

"She just needs time, Az." Jeb kissed her temple softly, his arm anchoring the princess to his side. "She's going to be Queen. We've all got to give her time to get used to that." This was said to include him in the conversation, Wyatt knew. He inclined his head in acknowledgement that he was listening, even as his eyes scanned the people gathered, hoping to spot DG amongst them. "DG's still there, Az. She'll still be your sister even when she's queen."

"But she's so unhappy." Guilt caused the first tear to fall from Azkadellia's eye. A tear caught by her fiancé as he kissed it away. "I can't remember the last time I heard her laugh," she confessed. "That's not like my little sister. That's not like... _DG_!"

Her name was as a gasp and a scream, ripped from Az's throat as her eyes widened and she clutched at her chest. Eyes wild, unseeing, the elder Princess tore herself from Jeb's arms and ran out of the tent that had been hosting their engagement party.

Sensing more than knowing that something was wrong, Wyatt and Jeb followed, a dozen of their men on their heels.

Azkadellia led the way towards the maze on the outskirts of Finaqua, a maze that had been magically programmed to allow only those on the guest list to attend the royal celebrations. She started to run through it, wholly unaware of those who tried to keep up, and came to a stop with a wail that pierced the night air as she dropped to her knees.

She pulled DG to her, cradling her sister against her as she screamed out into the night, a blast of magic leaving no doubt as to her distress as those miles away would later swear they felt the hairs on the back of their arms and neck stand on end in response to the cry.

"Baby sister, no. DG. Please. Please, don't leave me. Stay with me."

* * *

DG didn't hear her pleas; she'd stopped hearing anything the moment the enchanted blade had been plunged into her stomach by a stranger she'd followed into the maze, a male presence she'd instinctively knew meant harm to her family.

_"I claim the blood debt owed by the House of Gale," _the man had told her, before disintegrating into an unnatural mist that was swallowed by the shadows in the maze cast by the full moon ahead. _"The debt is now paid in full."_

Pain swarmed her, both dulling and sharpening her senses. She was only slightly aware of Azkadellia's presence as her sister moved her from the pool of blood that had settled beneath her. The heat of her sister's body didn't register; all she felt was cold.

Her mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood and her unseeing eyes suddenly started to see again.

Just in time to see Wyatt Cain, Tin Man and General, friend and what might have been, drop to his knees beside her.

The agony in his cool eyes would have been enough to break her heart had it still been whole.

"DG." Her name, his lips. Spoken with a reverence, on a prayer. A plea. "Gods. _DG_."

Darkness crept in slowly on her vision, then suddenly all at once.

Cain's blue eyes faded into endless black, and DG's dance with death began.

* * *

He barely left her side.

Wyatt helped his son track down the would-be assassin, but once the deranged son of a former Duke who had been stripped of his title and his land by Queen Lavender after his association with the Sorceress had been revealed was in custody, he took a seat by the bedside of the youngest Princess and would-be Queen and never left.

He couldn't.

He'd taken his eyes off her for a moment and this is what happened.

She lay fighting for her life, despite the help of the best Healers the Realm of the OZ had to offer. The Viewer tribe had done their best, with Raw spending many an hour by her bedside trying to will her back to consciousness.

Still DG lay, lost to them in every way except the physical.

The blade that had been used against her had mystical properties but no one, not even the Queen, knew what they were. They were being blamed for DG's inability to open her eyes and come back to them but Wyatt watched her sleep and wondered if that were true.

She'd started slipping away from them long before the steel had pierced her skin.

He'd watched it happen and had been powerless to stop it, believing he knew his place and that it wasn't by her side.

Seeing her now, watching her chest struggle to rise and fall, he wondered if that was true or if it had been something else telling him to keep his distance all along.

"DG." Her name was a breath, a whisper that barely stirred the still air in the room. "Please."

There was no one else present, which was a rarity; Jeb had insisted Azkadellia leave her sister's side to rest; Ahamo and Lavender had reluctantly retired to discuss the situation with their advisors; Raw was trying to meditate somewhere to shield himself from the pain of those around him and Ambrose was distraught, seeking comfort he wouldn't find in his lover's arms.

Only Wyatt had nowhere else to turn, no one else to turn to.

His safe place, his harbour from the storm, his heart...

... They were all wrapped up in the slip of the woman on the bed in front of him and he marvelled at that just as much as he wondered why it had taken _this_ for him to realise it.

DG hadn't just taught him how to reuse his old beaten heart; she'd taken it from his chest and repaired it but somehow neither of them had realised she'd failed to give it back.

"You have to come back to me, Darlin'." He lifted her hand, pressed her palm against his lips. "I don't know how to do this without you. And then there's Az, and your parents, and the realm. We need you to come back to us, Deege. Don't leave us now."

There was no change, no shift in her breathing.

Nothing.

"If I made it an order, would you listen? Probably not." He ran his finger over her knuckles. "Damn it, DG. You don't know how much we need you here. How much_ I_ need you." She didn't reply, though he could easily imagine the denials if she could. He stared at their hands, hers small and pale, his calloused and tanned. There was no white line anymore, the ring removed long enough ago that the mark it left was gone. "I took it off for you," he told her, his voice hoarse. "I know it's not seemly for the Queen-to-be and a commoner, but your father was a Slipper and I thought... I hoped..."

A dozen memories that hadn't been made his mind spin.

Two daughters with light blue eyes and raven black hair, a son with dark blue eyes and blond curls... A flash of white, a glint of gold, words exchanged and a dance that should have lasted a lifetime...

Dreams, maybe. Fantasies.

Memories of a life not yet lived.

A life that might not be lived.

"Come back to me, DG." It was less of an order, more of a plea. Tears stung his eyes and made his vision swim before sliding unchecked down his face. "I love you. I _need_ you. Come home to me."

* * *

She heard them all, but most of all she heard _him._

Her heart broke at first at the pleas she thought weren't sincere, then broken all over again when she realised they were.

He was on the verge of breaking again, her strong Tin Man, and it was all because of her.

The murkiness surrounded her, darkness that weighed her down. She tried to swim against it, to head towards the light flickering on the edges of her subconscious, but the weights around her legs pulled her down, kept her from rising upwards.

_"I hoped..."_

Visions assaulted her, distant ideas that weren't hers but were so very similar to those she'd tried to force herself not to dream...

_"Come back to me, DG. Come home to me."_

'I'm trying,' she thought, and renewed her efforts.

The fuzziness started to fade, the light at the edges growing just that little bit brighter and then...

... then...

_Pain._

Oh, Ozma, the _pain_...

* * *

Her hand twitched in his. Wyatt moved to the edge of his seat, his grip tightening.

"DG?"

Her eyelids flickered, her dry lips parted.

A sharp gasp escaped her.

* * *

It took a week, over a week, for her to come around fully and start to recognise the others around her.

It took twice as long for her to start speaking, even though the words that escaped her initially were just names, mostly one name, a question and a prayer.

He didn't leave her side; whenever she opened her eyes, he was there.

He vowed, with his words and his eyes, that he always would be.

After two cycles, the magic in the blade that had been used in the would-be assassination finally abated. DG felt strong enough to get to her feet, though not without help. Having been moved to the palace in Central City at some point – she didn't know when – she insisted on being led to the balcony, where the sight of her people gathered outside with their candlelight vigil brought tears to her eyes.

She couldn't speak to them but they could see her and that was enough.

It was also enough to exhaust her, so she didn't protest when her mother and father insisted she return to bed.

Az was another constant, present more often than not, climbing on the bed beside her and talking about everything and nothing, the conversation drifting sometimes to her wedding plans but always with the adamant insertion that nothing was set in stone and wouldn't be until her baby sister was strong enough to take part in the proceedings.

Wyatt – she couldn't call him Cain any more, not even in her head, and she didn't know why – was often there for those conversations but didn't contribute at all. He just watched them, watched her, and only spoke up to advise her visitors quietly but firmly that perhaps she'd had too much in the way of excitement for one day and needed to rest.

That would leave just the two of them.

Her to sleep fitfully, aware of his gaze on her at all times. Him to watch and wish and wonder.

"I heard you," DG said, breaking the silence one night almost three cycles after the attack. She kept her gaze averted, not sure she was strong enough to see his response to her words. "I thought I heard you, but maybe I dreamt it. I..." Her voice trailed off for a moment, the side of the bed dipping under the unexpected weight. She turned her head to look at him, his expression unreadable. "Did you mean it?"

Wyatt took her hand in his, her fingers so small and delicate wrapped up in his own. Lifting her hand to his lips, he turned it so he could press a tender kiss to the palm of her hand, to the place a glowing mark had once been burned to help her in her quest. "I meant it, DG. I love you. I... I want more than just the last dance with you. I want more. I want everything."

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching his. After what felt like a lifetime to him, she smiled despite the tear that slid unchecked down her cheek. "I want that, too."

* * *

End


End file.
